Our Stories: Nanette Johnson
Posted by Nanette Johnson on July 16, 2018
I grew up in a religious (Baptist) family. I had a variety of church experiences, a lot of religious knowledge, and a longing for a meaningful spiritual connection. But I’d never found a satisfactory “church home” – either in the big sense or in a local congregation. My years of “wilderness wanderings” are stories for another time.
I was somewhat familiar with Anglican/Episcopal history/background. During my time living in Minneapolis in the ‘80s, I also had a friend (now a priest), who was a new Episcopalian. So I had occasionally attended liturgies or other activities with her. But I had always perceived the Episcopal Church as less of an abode for deep spirituality and more of a “club” where the upper crust performed their Sunday church duty.
Sometime after Easter of 1994, I hadn’t been to church in a while, and I felt an actual longing for Eucharist. I thought “Disciples and Episcopalians do communion every week . . . hmm, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been to an Episcopal worship service.” So I checked the phone book and found St. Paul’s. I thought, “If I’m doing Episcopal, I might as well do the Cathedral!”
I arrived for what I thought would be a one-off, sing-pray-commune-leave. Mary Chamberlain was the greeter on duty and she not only greeted me when I arrived, but also when I left. She asked, “Will you join us for coffee hour?” To which my unspoken response was, “Of course, not. I’m an introvert, why would I want to go to a room full of strangers?!?” But before I could say anything, she had grabbed Marty Hock and said, “Nanette is a visitor. Please accompany her to coffee hour.”
St. Paul’s had just completed a ministry project with Anawim Housing, and a house blessing for the new home was planned for that day. Marty, another visitor, and I decided it sounded interesting, so the three of us drove over there together. Led by (former dean) Michael Barlowe and (former priest) Laura Sellner, a group of us prayed over the house, inside and out. I thought, “I didn’t know anyone other than Catholics or Pentecostals who would pray over a house – maybe there is more spiritual substance to the Episcopal Church than I had thought!”
God guided me to St. Paul’s on the very day I needed to be there, providing me the intuition that my spiritual home would be in the Anglican Communion and at St. Paul’s. I’ve been here 24 years now. (Hard to believe how much time has passed and that I’m no longer one of the “young” adults!)
